


Father Dearest

by IFallLikeLeavesAndSnow



Category: Sing (2016)
Genre: And like every character I love I live to see him suffer, Angst, I feel like his dads name is Marcus, I love Johnny, Is it a fandom thing?, These tags seem quirky but I promise you this story is not, Why do I think that?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-09-22 03:31:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9580799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IFallLikeLeavesAndSnow/pseuds/IFallLikeLeavesAndSnow
Summary: Growing up is hard. Being the son of a criminal is really just icing on the cake.





	1. Hello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello - Adele
> 
> People have questions, something Johnny is very much used to.

"Johnny, where's your mother?" Miss Martin asked as she walked over. The little gorilla had a piece of paper in his hands and he was sprawled out next to the curb outside the school, his feet absently swinging in the air as he concentrated on his drawing, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth in a show of intense focus.

"Oh I don't have one." He replied simply, his expression unchanged. He was used to the question by now. He'd been asked it at least once by every teacher he'd ever had, and he'd had a lot of teachers. It wasn't their fault, they were curious, and he usually had to wait behind school for a little bit. It wasn't a big deal, he'd long since gotten used to it, and the picture he was drawing kept the third grader entertained while he waited.

"Oh" Miss Martin said, thrown off by his lack of reaction. She rallied herself, prepared to comfort the small gorilla but before she could a car rounded the corner far too quickly. It was a beat up thing, rather small and covered in mud. There was a significant dent in the back, and one of it's taillights was flickering. It was, to the matronly otter, utterly awful. She was about to pull Johnny back from the curb when the car stopped in front of them. The tinted window rolled down and a grown gorillas face was revealed.

"Sorry I'm late Johnny, I got caught up in a bit of business." The ape's tone was rough but apologetic.

"It's fine Dad" the little ape hopped up from the curb and opened the door of the car. His drawing fell carelessly to the floor as he buckled himself in and shut the door.

"I'm sorry, but are you Johnny's father?" Miss Martin asked. Her gaze searched his face, filing away everything she didn't like. The easy smile on the ape's face fell slightly.

"Yeah, why?"

She looked over the car once more, trying vainly to hid her disdain. The look on his face fell further under her glower, morphing into a frown.

"I'm Miss Martin, Johnny's teacher."

"Marcus," he said gruffly, his good mood having evaporated.

"Well it's very . . . nice to meet you Marcus, but I'm a little concerned about Johnny actually, he's been waiting behind after school every day this week."

"I've been a bit busy." Marcus' fingers gripped the wheel tightly, drumming into the leather grip.

"I understand that, but I'm still concerned. He told me that he doesn't have a mother. Is there anyone else in your life who could pick him up? A girlfriend? A sister?"

"I'm . . . sorry," Marcus said through gritted teeth "If it's a problem I can try to get here sooner, or have one of my boys pick him up."

Miss Martin's eyes narrowed "One of your 'boys'?"

"Yes, one of my boys, my friends." One of Marcus' fingers fell from the wheel and hovered over a switch on the door.

"I see, look Mister Blunstone I think we need to have a meeting, preferably with the principal as well, I'm concerned that Johnny isn't getting everything he needs, he's a very bright boy-"

Marcus' patience finally broke "Johnny has everything he needs, which is _me_." His teeth were barred but Miss Martin wasn't deterred.

"I disagree" the otter said.

"I don't care."

"Mister Blunstone I really think that-" Marcus flicked the switch and rolled the window up. Not to be deterred the otter tapped incessantly at the door. Marcus grunted and without another word stamped on the gas, sending out a plume of black smoke. Miss Martin coughed in the cloud that obscured her vision. By the time it had faded away she could no longer see the car.

In the back of the car Johnny looked at his father with all the concern he could muster in his little eight year old body. "Are gonna move again?"

Marcus sighed, glancing at his son in the rearview mirror. "Maybe Johnny, maybe."

Johnny frowned and muttered to himself "I really liked Cecil, and Carlos was cool too, he's really good at science and stuff, he said he'd help me with math."

The leather creaked under Marcus' grip. After a moment, he slapped a smile on his face. "Hey Johnny, guess what?"

"What?"

"We're going someplace tonight, someplace special."

Bright as he was, Johnny was still only eight, and rather easy to distract "Where are we going?" He asked excitedly.

"We're going to the movies" He said with a chuckle.

"Really? What are we seeing, what are we seeing?"

"Calm down Johnny m'boy, besides this time _you_ get to pick."

His son sufficiently distracted, Marcus focused on what he was going to do. He wasn't a legitimate man by any means, and while he wanted to be there for his son, the acts required to provide for him took time. He didn't have a job that would stand up to even cursory inspection, and he didn't think that they'd take his word on what he did. Johnny was just that likeable, everyone he knew wanted to protect his kid.

In most of those cases though, that meant that they wanted to take Johnny away from him.

He knew how it would go. They'd talk for a bit, ask about him, look at the papers he turned in when he enrolled Johnny. Eli had told him, years ago, that the best criminals look legitimate, but he just couldn't pull that off. It's hard to look legitimate as a 6'3 mass of muscle. He had a mean face, he knew that, and while it helped him intimidate the people he needed to, it did nothing to help convince other people that he was a responsible father. No they'd look at him, and they'd look at his information, and they would very quickly discover the lies.

They'd have to move, and that was that. He'd start packing tonight, after Johnny was asleep. With Dan and Charlie's help they'd be done by the weekend and they'd head out by Monday. They'd have to move somewhere bigger this time, a city. Somewhere Johnny could get lost among the mass of students, where teachers were too overworked to notice the boy whose father didn't match. He'd have to work for someone else for a bit, which he hated, but starting in a city was no easy thing. His heart was heavy with the decision but there was no turning back. Marcus wasn't the kindest man, but he'd do anything for his kid.

Anything but give him up.

Johnny loved the movie, but he barely made it through it. He conked out in the car on the way home. When he was safely in his bed, Marcus began to pack up the house.

Monday came and Johnny, his father and the other member of his dads gang had everything loaded onto a trailer. Dan it seemed wouldn't be coming with them, having met someone in the month they'd been in town. The group -minus one- packed into the car, and Marcus and his friend did their best to cheer up a clearly sad Johnny. For once though, it didn't work, not even the milkshake trick. The little ape just looked out the window and clutched the crumpled drawing he'd left in the floorboard in his hand. The scrawled forms of a cartoonish ape, a panther and leopard holding hands were distorted by the crinkles in the paper. The names Cecil and Carlos were scrawled above the panther's and leopard's heads respectively. The drawing was further marred by the water stains that had recently appeared on it.

It was a long drive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a few things, even though I hate leaving notes. For starters, this first chapter is very Marcus-centric but the majority of these will focus on Johnny growing up because I feel like that's a story that would be very interesting to tell. Secondly and this is just a note of interest, since Johnny doesn't have a canonical last name (yet, I'm hoping the sequel will give us one, other sidenote -SEQUEL- ahem) I took the one that I will be using from Colin Blunstone, English musician and member of the band The Zombies, who are the singers of the first song that Johnny sings in . . . Sing, The Way I Feel Inside. This is unbeta'd as I don't have one, so if you spot any mistakes or areas where this could be made better please let me know. Yes all chapter titles will be song titles. Oh and I'm unsure as of yet whether all of these will be in a chronological order or whether I'll bounce around, we'll see. Also let's play a game of spot that reference, shall we? I believe that's all for now, so . . . bye.


	2. Big Boys Don't Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big Girls Don't Cry - Fergie
> 
> Growing up is hard.

The apartment wasn't an apartment this time. Instead it was a motel room with one functioning light and mold growing in the corner. The bed was covered by a tattered old blanket, made burning white by the bleach used to remove who knew how many stains. The air stank of something illegal and toxic and the cracked window was only mostly obscured by half missing blinds. None of this was lost on Johnny, but he didn't pay it much mind.

The young ape sat just in front of the bed, his back resting against the frame. His clothes were dirty, dingy, and they stank from not being washed at all for a week and a half. His other clothes were somewhere in the back of a car that his dad couldn't go get yet. A dim clock sat on top of the out dated TV, and his gaze flicked to it every few seconds. He tried to distract himself with the TV, but the only things it showed were reruns of gameshows and _It's A Wonderful Life_. Occasionally he would sniffle, but every time he just managed to catch himself. The room was cold but he didn't want to use the blanket, so he hunched in and wrapped his arms around himself.

He didn't know where his dad was. All Marcus had said was that he was going "to take care of business". He'd been gone for the better part of six hours, and night had fallen. His stomach rumbled faintly, and he cast a look at the duffle bag that he'd managed to pack before his dad had thrown Johnny over his shoulder and ran.

The cops had found them. Someone had seen Marcus while they were preparing to leave. Johnny didn't know the details, Marcus hadn't shared them with the ten year old. All he knew was that it would be a while before they could get the car and get out of dodge. Everything they owned -of importance anyway- was inside their latest ride. Johnny had had an emergency bag packed since he was eight, his father had insisted on it, but for the most part everything they needed was inside the truck. That's where he figured his dad was, getting the truck that had been their home for the last six months. They'd lost Charlie a few months ago, the Puma had gotten himself caught stealing a bag of candy of all things. Johnny had a feeling it was for him, but he'd never know for sure.

Johnny's stomach rumbled again and he pawed at the bag resting at the foot of the bed. He already knew what was left inside it: a tooth brush, toothpaste, twenty dollars, a change of underwear and . . . something else. He'd eaten the little bit of food he'd stuffed in there hours ago. The clock flicked over from 7:59 to 8:00. Seven hours since his dad had left. Seven hours after he'd promised he'd be back soon. The light of the TV ghosted over his face, making his eyes glisten. The minutes ticked by as Johnny tried and failed to watch TV. His gaze inevitably slid back to the clock and he remembered what his father had told him months ago.

-

_It was a hot night, the summer air was stifling and thick. The motel room didn't have a functioning air conditioner, and Marcus had had a long day of planning his next job. The ape was tired, stressed, and hot. Worst of all, he had to have a talk with his son._

_"Listen Johnny M'b- Johnny, we need to talk."_

_"Sure Da' what is it?"  Still small for his age, his legs dangled over the edge of the bed, just grazing the floor as he swung them back and forth. It was late, and if Johnny was in school at the moment he'd definitely have been in bed. As it was, he was up later than he should've been, though the too large pajamas made it clear he'd be going to bed quite soon. The size of them was the only reason he could bear to be in them at all. To top it all off, he clutched a stuffed animal in his hand, a little ape who looked, he sometimes fancied, rather like himself._

_"It's about- this." Marcus waved at his son. He knew he shouldn't be doing this now, when he was tired and aggravated, but it just wouldn't leave him alone._

_"You just gestured to all of me." The sleep in his eyes faded slightly in confusion._

_"Look Johnny, you're ten years old now, you shouldn't be sleeping with that doll anymore."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because you're too old for it that's why."_

_"Who says?" It was an innocent question, one that should've been easy to answer. Yet something about it struck the wrong chord and just like that, Marcus snapped._

_**"! do!"**  _

_Johnny flinched. "But-"_

_Marcus simply pushed forward. "It's ratty, it's old, and you're too old for it."_

_"But I-"_

_"It's time to grow up Johnny." Marcus stared at his son, realized he was standing over him, and saw the tears in his eyes. Johnny's face crumpled and he started to cry. "J-Johnny I'm sorry I didn't- come on now Johnny big boy's don't cry." Johnny sniffled and turned away from his dad. "Johnny I-" he reached forward to comfort his son and then slowly pulled his hand back. Johnny refused to speak for the rest of the night. In the morning as they were packing up their things, Marcus noticed that the stuffed ape was gone._

-

The clock changed hours once again, and Johnny broke. Digging into his emergency bag, he reached down to the very bottom, and pulled it out. The stuffed ape was musty from being the bag for so long, and it was just as tattered as ever. It was old, and faded, and it had a prominent patch where it's previous owner had had to repair it.

It was perfect.

He pulled it close to his chest as he watched the TV with watery eyes. His father had told him that big boys didn't cry, and it was a mantra he'd been repeating for the last five hours.

He didn't feel very big at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaannnnnnddddd I'm a monster. I'm so sorry Johnny, really I am. Some of these chapters will be happy . . . ish. Probably. Wait until you're a teenager, then you'll have some freedom. Oh you poor boy. This chapter is short, but I felt like it was complete. Might come back and do some edits, I'm sure there are mistakes that I haven't caught that I will while rereading.
> 
> P.S. I found the source of Marcus' name (for me at least). He's listed as Marcus on Sing's character page on TVTropes  
> P.S.S. Can you spot the reference this time?


	3. Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Youth - Daughter/Troy Sivan
> 
> There is nothing more that Marcus would like to do than to go to bed. Unfortunately for him, the baby in his arms just wont. Go. To Sleep.

The persistent glare of the clock in the corner of the room wasn’t enough to keep him awake. The sounds of the city outside the apartment were invasive and annoying, but nothing his tired mind couldn't get past. Not even the apartments smell and the weight of what he had to do tomorrow could’ve kept him from the sweet embrace of slumber. No the only thing in all the world that could keep him awake was looking at him with giant eyes and was covered in the thin and soft fur of a baby. Though he’d never admit it, Marcus had never seen any child more adorable than the one that was persistently giggling at him and occasionally gnawing on a teething toy. His latest roommate had only been with him for two weeks, and he’d left Marcus with a lot of questions.

“Look, I know tha’ ye need exercise and men’al stimulation’ n’stuff, but let’s make a deal, yeh? If you go to bed righ’ now, in the mornin’ I’ll get you soma them chewies all the babies like. Watcha think, soun’ like a deal?”

“Apabatubppppptttt,” the baby replied, blowing a raspberry.

“Righ’ then,” Marcus said, ignoring the spittle now covering his face. With a groan he sat up, scooping up the babe with one arm and wiping his face with the other. His feet carried him out of the room and into the living room/kitchen/dining room that encompassed the rest of the apartment sans the bathroom. The living room, if you could call it that, was bare. The sole occupants of the room were a worn down arm chair, an even more dilapidated looking couch, and a television that looked like it had been out of date ten years ago.

He ignored the living room for the moment and made his way into the small area that might generously be called a kitchen. The cabinets were worn down and largely bare, only some bread, a bag of chips that were most likely stale, and a jar of formula occupying them. The fridge only housed a jar of mustard, some lunch meat, and a half empty carton of milk. He grabbed the jar from the cabinet and a brand new baby bottle from the counter.

His own experience raising his sister came in handy here, the steps for making the formula instinctive and automatic. As the microwave hummed he watched the baby he’d placed on the counter. The child was peering around inquisitively, seemingly entranced by everything, from the chipped mug on the counter to the stain on the ceiling.

The microwave beeped and with speed that comes only with practice, Marcus soon held the bottle in his hand. Grabbing the baby once more, he took the paltry five steps it took to go from kitchen to living room. The baby, Marcus noticed, fit perfectly in the crook of his arm. The little ball of warmth snuggled into his arm as he sat down in the chair, and the young ape smiled. His mind turned to the paper sitting on the table by the bed. He thought of what it would mean, what he would have to do. Then he shook his head, slightly to dislodge that thought and slightly for his drowsiness. He clicked the power button on the battered remote and the television blinked uncertainly into life. Nothing good was on of course, but hopefully the harsh glare of the TV would keep him awake. The baby on the other hand, looked wide awake.

“Alrigh’ I can play this game too ya lil’ rugrat. If ye think that yer’ gonna beat me ye gotta nother thing coming.” Despite his words the next thing to come out of his mouth was a large yawn. The baby in his lap burbled happily. Marcus adjusted the little thing, tucking him back in the crook of his arm as he leaned back into the chair. As he flicked through infomercials and old movies and reruns of terrible “reality” TV, the baby in his arm suckled at the bottle in his hand as Marcus absently rocked him back and forth. Settling on a rerun of the Maury show, he debated on which predictable plot it would be. He was betting it was another one of the “Is the kid his or not” episodes.

The mind numbing predictability of the episode almost lulled him to sleep, but for once the stupidity of it was almost relatable. It was, as he thought, a debate on whether or not the man in question, a red deer, was in fact the father. As he watched the episode, Marcus became more and more agitated by it. The stage was filled by three male red deer and two females. The debate was rather complicated and convoluted, and he didn’t really buy it for a second. Still, something about it bothered him. The primary red deer was certain that he _was_ his son’s father, but the other two also believed that the kid was theirs. Then there were the mother red deer and it was all just ludicrous. He still didn’t like it. The episode neared its conclusion and the results of the tests were handed over to the host.

The famous, or infamous depending on your perspective, Mandrill held the paper with the answer in his hand. The audience waited with baited breath. As the answers were about to be revealed, Marcus switched the station. An infomercial for some kind of super blender was vaguely interesting, and focusing on it helped to settle the disquiet in his chest.

When that had finished Marcus looked down at the bundle of fur in his arms. The baby had stopped suckling on the bottle a little while ago, and his eyes were closed. Marcus smiled down at the boy as he stood. The left over formula went down the sink as Marcus rinsed the bottle out, and he very carefully made his way back to his room. There was a simple, impromptu cot that Lisa from down the hall had lent him while he figured things out.

He took the binky from the bedside table, washed it briefly in the bathroom, and put it in the baby’s mouth. When all that was done, Marcus very quietly let himself collapse into bed. His eyes settled on the cot which was just a few feet away from him, and the occupant inside. His gaze locked on the sleeping baby for a few minutes. His mind turned to the smile he couldn’t keep off his face when he saw him. Then slowly his gaze turned to the paper and pen on his bedside table.

He knew every word on that page. Knew them like the back of his hand. It was the most important piece of paper he’d ever seen. It would have a huge impact on his life, and it would absolutely change the baby’s. It was the kind of deal he tried to never make, the kind that would leave a mark that would never fade. He thought about the cot in his room. He thought about the bottle on his counter. He thought about the unknown ending of that episode. And he made his choice. He knew he’d have to take care of things. He’d need a better place, need someone to, ahem, “do his filing” for the paperwork, but he was committed to this as he was to nothing else.

His arm was heavy but determined as he lifted it and clutched the pen tightly. Then, with surprising grace, he signed his name, and then, on a separate page, he signed a different one. Then he let the pen drop. His decision made, and the ink already drying, Marcus let his eyes slip closed. As sleep finally claimed him, a few words made it past his lips.

“Johnny, _my_ Johnny.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILERS IF YOU FOR SOME REASON HAVEN'T READ THE CHAPTER
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> 
> So yeah, Johnny is adopted in this story. Guess I've gone full AU. There's a couple of reasons for this, but it's mainly because it A.) seemed right and B.) Johnny is just so smol you guys. I mean maybe he just takes after his mother, I don't know much about the genetics of gorillas, and even less so of anthropomorphized gorillas. Anyway I hope you lot enjoyed this, and I'm SUPER sorry about the long gap between chapters.
> 
> Interesting fact: Did you know that the term “raspberry” for making the farting noise with your mouth stems from cockney slang, because “raspberry tart” rhymes with “fart” and now you know.
> 
> Another Interesting fact: A baby’s ability to remember thing increases exponentially over the first year of life. At three months, their visual memory is typically limited to about a week at most. I’m actually not entirely sure how old Johnny is in this scene, buuuuuuuuut he's young enough to be curious about everything, even things he just looked at.
> 
> Yet another interesting fact; along with Gorillas, Elephant Seals, Bengal Tigers and more, Red deer are polygamous animals. That’s why I chose them to be the animal from the Maury episode. I thought that perhaps having it be a Gorilla might’ve been too on the nose.
> 
> Sidenote: You guys, how INSANE would a show like Maury be in an Anthropomorphic animal world like Sing or Zootopia?


	4. Life Is A Highway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life Is A Highway - Rascal Flatts
> 
> The road is, as ever, a long one. He doesn't mind that as much this time.

The thrum of the truck had long since lulled Johnny into a doze. The two of them, just he and his dad, were driving. He couldn't quite remember where, only that it was somewhere different, somewhere new, and faintly, he thought he might've heard his dad tell him somewhere _permanent._ It was like a dream, the idea of staying in one place. His jacket was bunched up against his head as he leaned into it, his thoughts fuzzy and vague. The road they were on was deserted save the two of them, and they were surrounded on both sides by fields of wheat as far as his blurry vision could see. The sun was just beginning to set, the clouds parting around it, and the fields around them were made of gold. It was a beautiful sight, even his sleep addled mind could tell that.

He wanted to stay awake, but he couldn't remember why. Was there a point to it? Did he need to? The car was filled by the sound of the wheels on the road and low rock music. He felt calm, peaceful for the first time in a long time. He smiled faintly, slivers of sunlight rippling through the golden field. It was all so very . . . very . . .

Marcus looked over at his son and smiled. His little Johnny was growing up so fast. Where had the time gone? Yesterday he was a little baby whose nappies he'd been tossing in the bin. Now he was a newly minted teenager. He'd probably never be very big, he just wasn't built for it, but he was still so much bigger than Marcus remembered him being. it was like every time he looked away his son changed just a little bit more. He supposed that was the way life was, just a bunch of little changes that happen when you aren't looking. Still for all that Johnny might not have been big, he was growing. Already the jacket that Marcus had gotten him a few months ago was getting too small. Soon he'd outgrow it completely.

The road ahead was a long one, but it was empty and he had his music. Taking care not to wake his son, he hummed to the tune.

-

The gas station was devoid of anyone save a disinterested ostrich cashier. Marcus paid for his gas first thing and then spent a little time browsing the aisles. It was a small store, but the things it had crammed onto its old shelves were surprisingly varied. Along with the normal foodstuffs there were a number of exotic candy flavors that honestly had no place in an out of the way gas station like this. A few rows over from the blow pop bonanza, Marcus struck gold. The bag of Mango Chewies was surprisingly cheap, and so he bought seven of them. He decided to store the other six in his pack for future surprises. The first pack he placed in the space between his seat and Johnny's.

The gas station quickly receded into the distance, swallowed up by the horizon of his rearview mirror. Johnny nuzzled his jacket and moved in his sleep, adjusting this way and that. _It'd be nice_ , he thought, _if it could just be like this forever_. The road ahead was as empty as it had been for the past three hours, and it is was just a straight. The last dregs of sunlight were slowly sinking into the earth, settling beneath the dirt and allowing shadows to take their place.

His thoughts moved about idly as he drove on autopilot, nothing but the night and the slumbering form of his son for company. Whenever he felt that he was perhaps getting a bit too relaxed, he cracked his window and allowed the night air into the cabin of the truck. The cold was bracing, and it kept him attentive and aware.

Eventually the wheat gave way to rock and wood. Passing through rocky hills and the dark trees that surrounded the road. He gained company here, as he met the main highway. The presence of other drivers, sparse though they were, was welcome. The world was a beautiful place in the quiet, the trees and hills made for a peaceful backdrop, and the stars were gorgeous, but with no conscious company he’d been feeling a little lonely.

It was around 2 A.M. that he began to truly feel tired. He’d been driving for twelve hours and ]was officially ready for a break. The moment he realized that his eyes had drooped a noticeable degree he began to look for a sign. He was in luck. A few minutes later he spotted a road sign that promised a motel somewhere in the next few miles. The turn off was nearly hidden, but he caught just before he would’ve driven pass it.

The motel wasn’t much, and the night manager was asleep when he got there, but it had beds and it was cheap, and it was there, and that was enough. He kept their things in the locked trunk of the truck. He’d find a place with showers tomorrow. Johnny didn’t wake when he picked him up, his only response was to nuzzle his face into Marcus’ chest instead of his too small jacket. With as much silence as he was capable, he moved Johnny from the truck to the room. The beds were small, but clean enough, and he carefully laid his kid down on the other bed.

He checked the locks, made sure Johnny was under the covers and then with a great sigh of relief he let himself fall onto his own mattress. “G’night Johnny” he said with a yawn, turning off the bedside lamp with a faint _click_

-

The look on Johnny’s face when he noticed the chewies made Marcus smile. It was wide and innocent, and happy and he wished he could just freeze them in that moment forever. Life, he knew, was not kind, nor was it fair, and while he would do his best, he was sure that it would steal that innocence in time.

The road was long, as it always was. It was long and it was full of late nights of driving, and careful management of speed and being entirely inconspicuous whenever possible. It was long hours of silence while Johnny slept, but it was also long hours of playing car games, and of Johnny telling him stories he’d made up for the people he could see through the windows. It was laughter, and silence, and peace and joy and Marcus wouldn’t trade the memories of the trip for anything.

It wore on him yes. It wore on Johnny too. His son was growing and he had no room to grow _in._ He’d had to stop several times already just so Johnny could run around a bit. There was too much pent up energy for the relatively small truck cabin. The trip could’ve been over by now he knew, if they’d taken all the main roads and he’d been willing to break the speed limit like most everyone else on the freeways. But Marcus hadn’t lasted as long as he had by being sloppy. They were moving because their new city was far and away better than the last place they’d lived yes, but also because they needed to. He needed a bigger place to lie low, a bigger place with bigger payoffs. He knew a guy, an old acquaintance who had a shop he didn’t need anymore. A cheap, fresh start, with new opportunities and quite possibly some old friends.

It wasn’t, he admitted, really about that at all. Or rather it was, but it was for entirely different reasons. It was a fresh start true, for Johnny. There were new opportunities yes, for Johnny. He could find some old friends absolutely, and if they were as good as he remembered, he’d finally have someone who could watch his son when he couldn’t.

It was a new life, with new opportunities, with the chance that Johnny could become someone _different_. He’d never escape Marcus’ reputation, not really, but he could get lost in the crowd, blend in, have a _life_. He might even, Marcus thought in his most optimistic daydreams, make something of himself. Of course his dower thoughts reminded him that could only happen if Johnny cut him out of his life completely.

It was a bit of a catch 22 that Marcus resolved not to dwell on. The important part was the future his son could have. The car was silent, Johnny distracted by turns with either the cheap book Marcus had picked up at a gas station, or the clouds presently taking up the sky. They were just disparate enough that individual shapes could be made out, but they still blocked out most of the direct sunlight.

His eyes flicked up to the overpass sign, and he sighed. Johnny glanced over in concern and he plastered on a smile. His son, painfully guileless as he was, couldn’t hope to hide his worry.

“M’fine Johnny me boy, just a wee bit tired.”

Johnny chewed on his lip, a frown overtaking his face.

“Awh c’mon Johnny, m’fine I swear.”

The young ape looked up at his father worryingly. “D’yah promise?”

“I promise” Marcus said reassuringly.

“D’yah _pinkie promise_?” The young apes face was the picture of seriousness. It was absolutely childish, and the kind of thing he needed Johnny to grow out of. People didn't adhere to pinkie promises or promises of any kind necessarily, it just wasn't how the world worked. His son was getting far too old for things like that, and he needed to start to nip things like that in the bud. It would be irresponsible for him to do otherwise. It was also entirely adorable. 

Marcus looked contemplative for a moment, as if weighing the magnitude of what he was about to do. Then he said with utter solemnity “I pinkie promise,” and held out the digit in question.

Johnny wrapped his own vastly smaller pinkie around his fathers and shook it once with a small laugh and a smile. Satisfied, the young ape turned back to his book. Marcus couldn’t fight the smile that inched its way across his face, even if he felt no less tired than he had before. An hour later, he caught another sign and sighed once more, this time internally.

His endurance was at its limit. His body was weak, his spirit was gone, and he’d gone as far as he could.

They were halfway there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I APOLOGIZE FOR THE SUPER LONG NOTES
> 
> Who does too much research for authenticity for something he doesn't get paid for? This guy. So firstly, I'd like to apologize for the extreme time gap between this chapter and my last one. My bad. On the plus side I have -at the moment of this writing- plans for another 15 chapters at least, so look forward to that. Secondly, about that research. So first I had to figure out exactly what kind of gorilla our favorite singer is. It seemed like a pretty solid bet that he was a Mountain Gorilla based on design and estimated height. From that I had to figure out exactly where on earth Mountain Gorilla's live. As it turns out they're based exclusively out of two locations. The first is the Virunga range of extinct volcanic mountains on the borders of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), Rwanda and Uganda, and in the Bwindi Impenetrable National Park in Uganda. So having figured that out I then needed to look up what fruits most commonly grow there.
> 
> Luckily that information is literally but a google search away (Literally just type in Uganda Fruits). As it turns out fruits from Uganda include but are not limited to: Pineapples, apple bananas, mangoes, jack-fruit, passion fruits, avocadoes, papaya (pawpaw), ginger and more. I ultimately settled on mangoes as Johnny's favorite because . . . well I just really like mangoes okay?
> 
> In regards to Johnnys actions. He's not that chilidish in all actuality, he's just REALLY tired and an imaginative kid. And Marcus is a total softy right now, atleast when it comes to his kid. Regarding the whole pinkie promise thing, If you think 13 is too old to treat pinkie promises like that, well, I'm a duogenerian, and I STILL treat them as sacred. I mean if you can't trust someone to keep a pinkie promise what CAN you trust them with?
> 
> And time once more for another round of SPOT! THAT! REFERENCE! Though this time the reference is more of an altered movie quote (hint: it's at the end).
> 
> Also, a relatively happy chapter, oh my!  
> Anyway brief research spiel and assorted other details over, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you have a great day, bye :)


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